


Cupcake's unexpected evening

by BotanyCameos



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Also there's a tiny bit of Bones in the fic but so little that I didn't tag him to avoid false hopes, Gen, Hurt Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jim has a lot of unresolved issues, Kirk Whump, M/M, No pairings - you can read this as Gen or imagine McKirk in there though, Tarsus IV, brief mentions of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7908229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotanyCameos/pseuds/BotanyCameos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Academy fic. Jim is a genius. His instructors realize this, his classmates do as well, and they don't take too kindly to being shown up by the farmboy from Nowhere, Iowa.</p><p>Cupcake is taking a walk through the campus late at night and finds him laying in the middle of the ground, curled up and beaten to a pulp. It's not as satisfying as he always thought it'd be.</p><p>Hurt/Comfort, Kirk whump.</p><p>(Fill for a prompt from the STID Kinkmeme.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupcake's unexpected evening

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for [this prompt](http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/3163.html?thread=2854747#t2854747) from the STID Kinkmeme. And yes, the Kinkmeme is still alive! :D  
> (And I'm hoping that some people might feel like adopting some of the Khan prompts too, because I'd love to read them... *-*♥)
> 
> **Prompt:**   
>  _Jim is a genius. His instructors realize this, and classmates do as well, and they don't take too kindly to being shown up by the farmboy from Nowhere, Iowa._   
>  _Cupcake is taking a walk through the campus late at night and finds him laying in the middle of the ground, curled up and beaten to a pulp. It's not as satisfying as he always thought it'd be._
> 
> _Bonus: The cadets that beat up Jim had their way with him after they did, and Cupcake actually gets pissed on his behalf._
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warning (spoilery):** There are assholes in the academy who slut-shame Jim or make assumptions and spread rumors etc.  
>  Also, Jim has some unresolved issues due to past trauma, and it affects how he deals with new problems.  
> If any of this might be an issue for you, maybe skip this one. It's only mentioned though, and the focus of the fic is on Cupcake's realization of what happened, and his bit-by-bit change of heart about Kirk.
> 
> Also, It's un-beta'ed.
> 
> * * *

 

 

 

 

Hendorff had had a pretty bad day.

 

Not only he was close to flunking Quantum Chemistry, but his Subspace Geometry exam that afternoon had gone horribly badly. The class was more advanced than he could keep up with, but there was no avoiding it, as it was a requirement for all branches.

 

The most infuriating thing was to see that pest of a farmboy from Iowa popping up in so many of the same classes, acing them, getting advance placements and moving on to the next ones at a vertiginous speed that no one in the class could keep up with.

 

Hendorff had been at the Academy for close to three years now, and he’d never seen anyone like that. Sure, there were geniuses and students from species that were smarter than humans, and they always collected the credits from various classes faster than the human average, but this Kirk guy was absolutely ridiculous. He must be as smart as a Vulcan, maybe even more, but he made it all seem so effortless.

 

Half the time, Kirk seemed to be flirting and sleeping around with the whole campus rather than studying, and yet he still passed his exams just fine. Some people said he was sex on legs, some said he was also a stack of books on legs, but Hendorff had only seen him acting the part of the former so far. Kirk had to be studying at some point, but when did he even find the time to sleep?!

 

At first, Hendorff thought Kirk must be cheating. There were all sorts of rumors that the blond was sleeping with instructors and likely whoring himself for grades. A large number of people had noticed Kirk, and many hated him for doing all the things they all would have loved to be able to do and couldn’t, whether by lack of talent or of charm.

 

But after enough time watching him, Hendorff had come to the conclusion that while Kirk was absolutely infuriating, his Academy results were well-deserved. Whoever he might be sleeping with, it wasn’t for grades.  
There were many who refused to believe though, or who simply encouraged the rumors because of their dislike for Kirk. All manner of talk would circulate, about how Kirk was only there to sleep around, and how so many of them hoped he’d be taught a lesson at some point. He was hated almost as much as he was desired.

 

Hendorff kind of agreed with some of it. Not so much about Kirk’s sluttiness --he didn’t care about that-- but about how pissed he still was from the suspension he’d gotten after that bar fight (the other cadet, the one who had ended up punching Kirk so much that he might have killed him if Captain Pike hadn’t interrupted the fight, had ended up expelled from the Academy, and his friends held an even bigger grudge against Kirk than Hendorff did).  
Or from how stupid he felt whenever he spent months struggling to get through a class module, and yet Kirk sat in the same room for a mere few weeks and then completed it and moved onto the next stage.

 

_He’s always making the rest of us look stupid._

 

Even the instructors either loved Kirk for his smarts or hated him for his attitude, but they all had a certain fondness for him and looked at the other students in the room with a sense of _‘if only there were more like him’_ , and it was starting to make people resent Kirk more and more.

 

Hendorff had hoped that a nice dinner in one of the little bar-&-restaurants on the edge of the campus would lift up his spirits after the exam, but it had only made them worse, once again because of Kirk.

The damn farmboy had been there too, laughing and drinking and generally flirting with the entire bar, until he got into some minor scuffle with some other cadets and ended up leaving after ridiculing them. He might still be out there bar hopping and partying through the night.

 

Just the sight of Kirk was enough to ruin his dinner.

Hendorff stayed longer afterwards, hoping that some drinks would make things better, but the damage was already done, he couldn’t stop thinking of Kirk and how infuriating he was.

 

It was a waste of time to stay, so he figured he might as well walk back to the dorms and study a bit more for the Survival Strategies exam he couldn’t afford to flunk tomorrow morning. It was a vital requirement for Operations. If he failed that test he’d have to retake the module.

 

But as he walked past a gap between two buildings in the campus, he heard a weird noise that made him freeze in place.

 

It sounded like a pained breath, as if a hurt animal was lying somewhere in the ground, past the bushes along the path, in the poorly lit tiny alley between the buildings.

 

Hendorff couldn’t afford to get back to the dorm too late, the exam was early the next day. But his mind flitted back to the time he’d found some poor cat that had gotten out and had been hit by a hovercraft, and he just knew he had to check, or his conscience would haunt him later.

 

As he stepped closer and his vision adapted to the low lighting, he pushed past the bushes and froze, gaping in shock.

 

It wasn’t a hurt cat --or even a couple on some tryst like Hendorff had considered also.

 

It was James T. Kirk, laying on the floor next to a trash dumpster, curled around himself and holding his midsection.

 

For a moment, Hendorff stood there as if petrified by the unexpectedness of the situation, but then Kirk saw him and flinched -- _flinched!!_ \-- back, his shoulders hitting the dumpster and tearing another pained sound from his throat.

Kirk had blood down the side of his face, from his split brow and from the corner of his mouth. One of his eyes was also swollen shut. He looked like he’d been through one hell of a beating.

 

Hendorff heard himself blurt out a “Huh…” that he hoped didn’t sound as stupid as it had sounded to his own ears.

 

Kirk looked up at him, recognized Hendorff and had a dismayed look on his face. After a moment of hesitation, the blond tried to prop himself up and grunted a “Let’s get this over with.”

 

It looked like he was steeling himself for something, fists balled and held close to his chest as if to block from a sudden attack. His knuckles were bloodied and looked hurt too. Kirk pushed himself up and tried to muster the strength to get up, but instead broke down into a fit of coughing, more blood trickling anew from his mouth. He sagged back onto his side on the ground with a pained groan, against his best efforts to straighten up.

 

Even since their first meeting, Hendorff had been thinking that he’d have loved to teach Kirk a lesson, or even to simply know it had happened. Actually happened, not a situation where Kirk came out somehow on top through the intervention of a higher ranking officer like with Pike last time.

 

But now that he found himself in front of the fait accompli, seeing the blonde in the ground beaten to a pulp did not bring the satisfaction he’d expected.

 

Far from that, it instilled in him a strange and unexpected sense of guilt, as if he was somehow to blame for this too, for having shared the feelings of whoever had put into practice the fantasy that so many in the campus had had.

 

Hendorff shook himself out of the frozen state he was in to ask, “Are you okay?”

 

Kirk let out a pained laugh.

 

In between wheezing, he taunted Hendorff in a slurred voice, “What kind of question is that?! You got here later than your buddies but you still have eyes. Don’t you, moon beam?”

 

A surge of anger flared through Hendorff, breaking through the shock of the current situation and reminding him quickly of his usual feelings about Kirk.

 

A bit more forcefully than he meant, he bit out, “You look like shit.”

 

Kirk winced, still unable to get up. To Hendorff’s surprise, the blond responded to the insult with a joke, “Yeah well, you should have seen the other guys.” But his voice sounded slower than usual, slurred and strange. The sound of it felt wrong. Kirk tried to get up again, and failed once more. Each time he fell back down, it looked more painful.

 

Hendorff was starting to take notice of things that he’d not focused on before. He’d assumed Kirk had just been in a drunken brawl of some sort, and that the difficulties he was having were just due to drunkenness, but he was now taking in signs that painted a different picture.

 

The blond’s clothing was disarrayed and ripped in ways distinctly more revealing than if it had been just a fight and nothing more, and he seemed dizzy and somewhat confused as he made yet another attempt to prop himself onto his elbows.

His jacket was open and the shirt he'd been wearing under it, in place of the regulation Academy turtleneck, was ripped and seemed to be missing several buttons at the top. It only remained closed around his midsection.

 

Hendorff crouched closer to Kirk and opened his communicator, using the emergency light to get a better look. Kirk reacted to the proximity by gathering more strength than he seemed to still have left and propelling himself backwards to try to get away. He fell on his back with a grunt of pain but his attempt to escape only left him even more horribly trapped between the dumpster and the burly cadet shining a light on his face.

 

Even with the way Kirk squinted and pulled away from the light, Hendorff could now see how dilated the blond’s pupils looked. Had someone at the bar drugged Kirk’s drink before the fight?

 

Hendorff felt a cold shiver run down his spine. There were fresh _bite marks_ on Kirk’s collar bone area! What the hell was going on?!  
Scratches and bruises littered much of the pale skin on display. Kirk’s pants hung low on his waist, ripped open at the top, the zipper irrevocably broken.

 

Kirk snarled, “Just take your fucking turn already or leave me the hell alone.”

 

Hendorff’s stomach sank.

 

“What have they done…?!” But there was no need to ask. It was clear from the way Kirk looked. He switched off the light.

 

Hendorff's question seemed to surprise Kirk. Despite the blond’s evident dazed state, as soon as the light was off his eyes Kirk begun to carefully study the other cadet’s face, apparently realizing that he might be misunderstanding the situation.

 

Hendorff brought the communicator closer to call for help, but the moment he did it, Kirk’s hand shot forward and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t call anyone!!”

 

“I’m just going to call for help.”

 

“No. I can’t have more fights on my record. I can’t be suspended and miss the exams.”

 

“You’re… you’re hurt.”

 

“It’s okay. It’s… not the first time. Just a fight gone wrong.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m fine. I’m gonna be fine.”

 

“Fine?! Kirk, they raped you!”

 

The blond winced visibly, but then broke into a mirthless laughter and slurred out, “Rape? This? No way. You know you can't rape the willing. Haven't you heard all the stories about me?”  
But his grip on Hendorff’s wrist had turned clammy and the expression on his face seemed to fit oddly with what he was saying.

 

“This is just a bit of outdoor sex, and if you tell anyone otherwise I'll deny it to my dying breath, you hear me?”

 

“Kirk, you need help.”

 

“This is nothing. I've survived far worse. And I don't need more people treating me like I'm broken.” He practically hissed out the words.

 

He was still gripping Hendorff’s wrist, harder even than before, but there was a noticeable trembling to his limbs.

 

“You need to at least go to medical.” He tried to grab Kirk’s arm to steady him but the blond pulled away, shrinking further back, sluggish and uncoordinated but still fighting the touch. 

 

Borderline frantic and overcoming the slurred speech with difficulty, Kirk explained, “No. Hospitals file records. My roommate is a doctor. Won't be the first time he patches me up after a fight.”

 

Hendorff found himself wondering, with horror, how many ‘fights gone wrong’ had Kirk had, and whether they normally ended in just a beating like the time they first met, or as bad as this one.

 

As if he could read his mind, Kirk drew his face close enough that Hendorff could smell the alcohol on his breath, and drawled out, half-seductive and half-mocking, “Aw come on, cupcake. You don't want your turn?”

He tried to mockingly pat Hendorff’s face, in a repeat of his gesture during their first meeting, but his movements were so uncoordinated from whatever drug was still coursing through his veins that he missed by several inches, and stared at his own arm with a frustrated look that might have been comical in a very different setting.

 

Hendorff gaped at him, feeling an embarrassing flush burning his cheeks, and horrified at how desirable Kirk could manage to be even in the current situation. Did he look like this when they first met? The anger Hendorff had felt then had blinded him into not noticing the seduction that walked hand-in-hand with the blond’s taunting. Was Kirk always so self-destructively trying to make his problems worse?

 

 _Probably yes_ , Hendorff thought as the blond looked at him, saw the blush spreading on the heavier man's face and still managed to laugh.

 

“Stop that, Kirk!! At least let me help you get back to your dorm!”

 

“What the hell do you care? You hate me too.” There was a sudden edge to Kirk’s voice that the joking had concealed earlier.

 

 _Ouch._ And here was that guilt again, despite the fact Hendorff had nothing to do with what happened to him tonight.

 

Kirk seemed to be running out of energy though, and Hendorff took advantage of the moment to grab Kirk’s wrist and sling it over his shoulder, wrapping his other arm around the blond’s waist and getting up, supporting him upright.

 

The blond protested sluggishly, instinctively fighting the contact and trying to pull away, but while normally he would have been faster and more limber than Hendorff, easily able to overcome the taller man in a fight, Hendorff was overall much stronger. In Kirk’s current condition he stood no chance to break free from his hold.

 

That didn’t mean Jim Kirk was going to go down without a fight. But his attempts were completely ineffective, and Hendorff just tightened his hold around his body.

 

“Stop that! I'm just going to help you back to your dorm!”

 

The wild look on Kirk’s eyes and the mussed hair made him look even younger than he was, which only made Hendorff feel even worse about the whole thing. There was a sort of mix of broken innocence and cornered animal to Kirk that Hendorff had never noticed before, and he found himself wondering if maybe all his constant bravado and excesses were just a mask Kirk wore to conceal the vulnerability that was so horribly visible now.

 

At long last, Kirk relented and stopped fighting him, instead saying, “Okay. Okay. But I have to fix my clothes. Can't...Can’t go back looking like this, y’know?”

 

Hendorff winced at the thought of accidentally parading Kirk through the campus looking so debauched, starting even more rumors.

 

When had the thought of people slandering Kirk become so unacceptable to him?

 

He let go of Kirk’s arm, just keeping a hand on his back to steady him, and blurted out, “Of course.”

 

Kirk gathered himself, made sure he could stand on his own, then made as if he was reaching to close the front of his shirt, turned around, and...took off running as fast as he could.

 

Or at least, that was what he attempted.

 

He made it only a minimal distance before his legs betrayed him, he tumbled over the bushes and crashed down on the ground heavily, before Hendorff could stop him.

 

“Kirk what the hell are you doing?!” Hendorff hissed at him while vaulting over the plants to get to the blond faster.

 

Kirk was sprawled on the ground on his front, emitting a low moan of pain that made the other worry whether he'd broken something.

 

Hendorff barked, “I thought you were going to dress?!”

 

“Sorry, I just…I saw an opening and tried to make a break for it.” His voice was even more slurred than before. He tried to push himself onto his forearms but not even that was working.

 

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” Hendorff carefully helped Kirk to sit up, and after realizing there was no salvaging that jacket's zipper, he pulled it off Kirk’s shoulders --wincing at the exhausted and somewhat resigned look that showed on the blond’s face when he did--

 

It was only for a moment, but Kirk seemed to be shaking a bit, Hendorff noticed. He wasn't sure whether it was from pain or if he was in shock. But then again, it was a cold night. As cold as nights in San Fran got, at least. He had to get him out of there.

 

Pulling off his own jacket, Hendorff slipped it onto Kirk, struggling a bit to get the other’s uncoordinated arms into the sleeves. Kirk’s glazed eyes took on a surprised look when Hendorff zipped it shut and helped him up.

 

“Come on, I’ll take you to your dorm. If anybody asks anything we’ll just say you drank too much.”

 

Kirk stared at him for a bit, somewhat in a daze but clearly attempting to scrutinize his expression. Eventually, he seemed to come to a conclusion, because some of the tension left his body and he sagged a bit against the heavier man a bit, seeming to finally accept his help instead of pulling away.

 

They walked like this for a bit, with Hendorff supporting Kirk and somewhat guiding him as they followed the walkway to the dorms.

 

Kirk walked, as well as he could, doing his best to put one foot in front of the other, but it was obvious that he would have fallen over if not for the other man’s support.

He was shaking a bit more noticeably now, and every so often he’d stumble and wince badly. Each time, a surge of guilt would wash through Hendorff at the thought that if he was better at this he would know how to hold Kirk in a way that didn’t aggravate the parts of his body that were injured or sore. But short of carrying him through the campus bridal style and potentially starting even more rumors, there wasn’t much he could do.

After a while, Kirk made a weird strangled noise that sounded almost like a sob, and Hendorff turned his head abruptly, looking at him sideways in worry but not daring to stop walking or to question him.

 

The blonde wasn’t crying, but he took a labored breath and mumbled somewhat indistinctly, “I juss’ don’t get it, you know? I don’t get why the sex? I get the hitting, I really do. They don’t like me. I get that. From a lot of people. But that’s not what sex is for. It’ss not how it works. It’s not supposed to be that way. I never understand that part. With…the...in Tarsus too. I don’t get it.”

 

He said a few more things, less coherently, but Hendorff didn’t understand what he was referring too, and all he could feel was a terrible knot forming in his throat.

  
He may not know some of what Kirk was talking about, but he knew enough to understand the horrifying depth of the gap between Kirk’s free-spirited sleeping-around with like-minded fun-loving people, and the turpitude of someone who would use sex as a tool to hurt someone else, like those people had done.

He could only hope that they wouldn’t succeed, and that Kirk would not lose this unexpected form of innocence he had about himself, this unexpected purity of heart that walked hand-in-hand with his oversexed lifestyle in ways that the more prudish people on the campus never understood.

 

Hendorff was in the middle of that thought, and fighting some unexpected moisture that was making him blink so much more than usual, when all of a sudden Kirk tensed again.

 

As if the realization came out of nowhere through the drug-induced fog, the blond almost stumbled as he attempted to stop their progression.

 

“I can’t go back. Bones isn’t back yet. He’s filling a night shift at the hospital.”

 

Hendorff stared at him, deciphering the slurred words and wondering for a moment what he meant before realizing ‘bones’ was likely a nickname for the roommate.

 

Hendorff wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt about leaving Kirk alone when he had no idea what drug the assholes from earlier had given him. What if he ended up hurting himself, or wandering off and getting injured by someone else? Or had a stroke or something?

 

The possibilities were endlessly worrisome, but the moment Hendorff said, “Well, that’s fine, right? I’ll take you inside and then wait with you just in case.”, Kirk tensed even more, looking at him in obvious distrust and trying to put distance between them.

 

“What? It’s not like I’m going to attack you. I didn’t in the alley.”

 

Kirk seemed to consider the words, but the tension was still there and he didn’t seem convinced. With apparently no filter, he finally mumbled, “Not worried ‘bout myself.”

 

For a moment, Hendorff stared at him in complete incomprehension, and vaguely frustrated by the idea that probably Kirk would have understood a lot faster than him, had the blond been in his place. He always figured everything out so fast.  
Then, the way Kirk kept scrutinizing him with evident distrust clued him in on what he meant.

 

“You’re afraid I’m going to hole up in there and attack your roommate?! What, are you a moron despite your grades?!”

 

Hendorff wasn’t sure how insulted he should be by the assumptions, given what Kirk had just gone through. With shame, he had to admit that given their history, it was understandable that Kirk may be wary of letting a potential danger in at a time when he might be unable to do anything about it, even warn his roommate. For all Kirk knew, the whole thing might be an act to lure him into letting someone in, to continue in the dorm what the others had started in the alley. Anger rushed through Hendorff’s body, targeted at the other cadets instead of at Kirk now, but he squashed it the moment he realized the effect his body language was having on Kirk, especially after the earlier outburst. He could feel Kirk’s hearbeat racing where he was holding him, and the blond looked like he might resume his attempts to get away from him anytime now.  
And aside from that, they were in a more populated area now. If Kirk decided to scream, things could end up in a very bad misunderstanding.

 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. If you want I’ll wait with you outside the dorm, or I’ll call your roommate for you. I don’t have to go in. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

 

Technically, he was holding Kirk’s torn-up jacket over his arm, with the keys presumably still in the pocket, so he could easily have overpowered the blond and carried him in, given his current state, But the fact that he was evidently not doing it had to count for something, right?

 

In the end, Kirk relented, and sagged back against his shoulder again. The blond must have seen something in Hendorff’s expression that convinced him, because he finally said, in a slightly less heavily slurred tone, “Take me to your dorm instead. We’ll call Bones at the end of his shift and you take me home then.”

Hendorff stared at him in surprise, trying to see if he’d understood him right. It was a sort of heartbreaking thing, how easily and naturally Kirk had chosen to go to a place where he clearly believed he might be risking a possible additional attack, rather than take the risk of letting someone he didn’t fully trust, a potential danger, into a space he shared with someone else.

 

Hendorff didn’t know many people who would have made the choice Kirk just made, and he was pretty sure he didn’t know a single one who would accept said danger so readily and without hesitation.

  
It made Hendorff unsure of what to do. But Kirk looked pretty sure of himself, and wasn’t trying to pull away anymore, instead actively trying to walk straight and weigh less heavily on him --however much he may be failing at those.

 

So in the end, they did as he said.

 

Kirk just crashed on the threadbare couch in Hendorff’s sitting room --and boy was it a good thing that the latter’s roommate was out as well, or that would have been an odd conversation-- and half-slept half-mumbled about all sorts of strange incoherent things while Hendorff just sat nearby and made sure Kirk didn’t drop dead or something.  
They waited for the end of McCoy’s shift, Hendorff called to tell him Kirk had gotten hurt in a fight (which earned them both an earful from him for not calling sooner) and then took the blond back to their dorm, in the building next to his.

 

The way Kirk looked at him with such open surprise and gratitude when he’d delivered him to his door without further harm would haunt Hendorff for a lot longer than the rest of the night.

 

He also flunked the exam the next morning, having barely slept that night.

 

But he didn’t regret it one bit.

It may not have been much that he could do, but at least, he helped Kirk a little.

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Epilogue:**

 

The next day, he ran into Kirk in the campus, and for an instant the blond had a deer-in-headlights look, almost freezing in place. Hendorff’s heart sank, wondering if perhaps the effects of the drug had made Kirk forget part of what happened and think he was part of the group that attacked him. But quickly, Kirk scanned the surroundings and asked him, with a pained expression and taking a moment before he met his eyes, “Did you tell anyone?”

 

It was weird to hear Kirk’s voice sounding uncertain like this.

 

“No and I don’t plan to. I think you should. But it’s your choice to make, not mine.”

 

Kirk looked at him for a bit, and then, satisfied that the other was speaking the truth, he felt relieved enough to ask more. As he spoke, he looked more awkward than Hendorff remembered ever seeing him.

 

“I may have...talked about some things, last night…”

 

“I don't remember anything you said.”

 

The corner of Kirk’s lips curved up, but his expression was still somewhat uncertain as he studied the taller man intently. Hendorff quickly added, “Whatever you were trying to tell me was so slurred and disconnected that I couldn't understand any of it, so I can't remember what it was about.”

 

Kirk's smile was brighter now, and there was something more open, more relaxed about his stance, something that was a world away from how tense and closed up he'd looked only a moment ago.

 

In his usual charming voice, Kirk said, “I might have been wrong about you.”

 

Hendorff was strangely moved by the words and that smile, up until Kirk slapped him on the arm and passed him by with a wink and the words, “When I’m Captain I’ll call on you to ask you to take an assignment on my ship! Just you wait!” He trotted down the stairs looking far lighter than he did moments ago.

 

Hendorff watched his retreating back with a familiar annoyance, and yelled “I’m over two years your senior, Kirk!! I’ll be long gone before you’re anywhere near graduating!!”

 

But he wasn’t so sure of it, and he couldn't stay mad either. The annoyance that had once been actual dislike, had now turned into a strange fondness that made him find the blond annoyingly endearing, if anything.

 

As he watched Kirk walking away, Hendorff found himself thinking it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have him for captain, if Kirk turned out to be as loyal to his crew as he was to his friends.

 

Meanwhile, Hendorff would be doing his best to try and figure out who were the assholes who assaulted Kirk the previous night. If the blond didn’t get to them himself first, that is.  
Kirk may not want it on his record, but that didn’t mean they were going to be allowed to get away with it...

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to balance out the whump & the feels. I hope you've enjoyed the fic! (OP or anyone else reading it.)  
> Jim's denial of what happened/his acceptance of it happening again/his attempt to present it as consensual, as well as his refusal of seeking any authority figure's help for whatever happens to him are rooted in past trauma that he is still working on. Bad stuff happened on Tarsus IV, along with other things during his troubled earlier years.
> 
> Also, this is Gen as far as pairings go, I just wrote it with the idea that Cupcake is the kind of guy who jumps to the aid of people he thinks need his help (whether he's right or not, like at the bar), and that Bones and Kirk are close friends.
> 
> However, you are free to view any of it as pairings if you feel like it, of course.  
> It could easily be considered McKirk, though I think Jim's self-sacrificial protectiveness would kick in for his roommate/friends/etc. regardless of it being friendship or any other thing they had.


End file.
